


That Is When I Carried You

by dentrag



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Ameno-sagiri too, F/M, Kanji Ai Nanako and Dojima are referenced but they have no dialogue, Marie is technically in this story, gross weeping from an overstressed teenager
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 09:36:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4661748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dentrag/pseuds/dentrag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seta Souji is sixteen years old, and he bears the weight of the world on his shoulders. For once in his life, somebody else is willing to let him spill his problems on them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Is When I Carried You

“Hey, partner.” Souji stirred, eyes fixed blank and unseeing on the chalkboard where Ms. Kashiwagi was trying futilely to control the class. “Psst! Partner!” With a groan, Souji turned to his partner and friend. 

“What, Yosuke?” he mumbled low beneath the chatter of the class. “What do you need?” 

“Jeez, man. No need to be snappy.” Yosuke visibly caught himself and smiled almost too-wide at Souji. “Hey, want to go and get some steak skewers with me? It’s been awhile since we just chilled.” Yosuke smiled in what was clearly trying to be an endearing manner.

Souji wracked his brain while he stared blankly, going over everything that had to be done that day. He’d sort of promised to spend time with Ai and hear whatever problem with her quest for acceptance she’d been worrying about this week. Kanji had asked him to talk with him about something Very Important but he wasn’t sure if he could make it and Kanji had run off before Souji could say that. Naoto had promising new information about her mystery thief case and Marie had demanded that he spend time with her today as well (not that he minded spending time with Marie) and to top it off, Kou would expect him at practice today. A calculation fraught with worry over who would be offended and who would brush it off played through Souji’s mind.

“Hey, Earth to Seta.” Yosuke waved a hand in front of his face. “You spaced out there man. So, skewers?” Souji closed his eyes and sighed.

“I’m sorry, Yosuke, but I already promised Ai-chan and Naoto-san I’d hang with them for a bit. I’ve got practice before then and grocery shopping and work afterwards, so I won’t really have time today.” Souji smiled as apologetically as he could manage.

“It’s okay, partner. You got a lot of stuff on your plate again, huh?” You have no idea, Souji thought. “Hey, since you’ve got work tonight, mind grabbing some gum for me and bringing it in tomorrow? I can pay you back.” Souji nodded and smiled. That, at least, was a promise that he could easily do to make Yosuke feel like he cared. Not that Souji didn’t care -- quite the opposite, in fact. Yosuke was his closest friend -- there was just so much that needed to be done and so little time. 

Ten minutes later, class ended and he was disgorged out into the world. Still, Souji pressed on after waving goodbye to Yosuke. He avoided Naoki and Kou to avoid the awkward conversation of “yes, I want to hang, but there are ten other people who want to hang with me more” and skirted the halls to where Naoto stood, gathering her things from the tiny locker. Ai could wait, he decided. Marie would need his help today if he knew anything about her. A twinge of guilt struck his gut at that selfish thought even as Naoto spoke.

“Ah, senpai. Do you have a moment to assist me?” Souji straightened his face and hardened his resolve. He would not fail anyone else.

“What is it, Naoto-san? More letters from your mystery fan?”

It was nine before Souji returned to the Dojima residence. He’d grabbed groceries, if the instant food could be called that, on the way home after the runaround he’d been given with Naoto and his time with Marie. The house was painfully empty and Souji spent as little time there as possible, every moment a reminder of his failure. The empty cushion and fridge, the couch gathering dust, all screamed at him that this was not right and he was the reason why. Souji hurried through the motions of preparing his dinner, certain that he would be late for his part-time job again. He changed standing in the middle of the living room after throwing the noodles on, uniform tangling around him as he struggled with it just in time to hop over and pull the noodles off. They tasted like ashes in his mouth. 

In the end, Souji was only five minutes late to work. He pushed -- no, slammed the door open, panting for breath. Nami Shirasagi, his co-worker (and, well, more) looked up from restocking the cigarettes. 

“Hey, Souji. Almost thought you wouldn’t make it.” She smiled and gestured at one of the racks. “We’re out of chips, mind stocking us up? Spare box in the back.” Souji nodded and moved. His heart thudded loudly in his chest. Normally, he would shift his Persona to Trumpeter while working with her, but today he felt impotent and unworthy of that. Souji’s heart was tight as it always was around Nami as he carefully stocked the shelves and worried. Would he have time tomorrow to visit Nanako and Dojima? He still had work at the daycare after school and tutoring after that. Souji teetered on the brink of panic when he realized that he had been stocking the wrong shelf for the last ten minutes before brushing it off with a stilted laugh.

Usually after the busywork that came with a shift change they would make small talk and chat and flirt more recently but Souji couldn’t muster up the courage or reason to speak, lost as he was in a miasma of guilt and self-doubt. He simply leaned against the counter and waited for nobody to come just like every other night. Several times he caught himself drifting away in a haze and he snapped himself back to wakefulness. When was the last time he’d slept more than three hours in a row? He didn’t remember. Souji shook his head and returned to planning how to fit three people and their problems into four hours in such a way that none of them would be unhappy. 

  
  


Izanami let the uncomfortable air sit for another few minutes while she checked the register and did other miscellaneous busywork. If Souji wished to speak to her he would. Still, she could feel discomfort and agitation floating off of him even from across the room. She waited exactly six minutes and seven seconds before speaking.

“Hey, Souji-kun, you okay?” The boy’s head visibly snapped to attention when she spoke. 

“What? Yes. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” Izanami wrinkled her brow, a practiced gesture that still held an inkling of feeling behind it. 

“You don’t look okay. You look really tired.” Two minutes, sixteen seconds passed before he responded. Izanami almost suspected he had fallen asleep before he spoke.

“I didn’t get much sleep last night. It’s no big deal.” A blatant lie, she could tell. There was no enthusiasm or sincerity in his voice. She counted ten seconds in her head before standing and moving to get a better look at her blessed one. Izanami allowed a carefully controlled twitch of surprise on her face at the bags under Souji’s eyes and the expression of worry on his face. He paid her no mind, staring at the wall when she stepped closer, and closer until when she was three feet away his eyes snapped back to hers.

“Nami, I-” He cut himself off and Izanami watched him reform his face and thoughts as his soul switched to a form more compatible with her -- the Trumpeter, if she had to guess. “I’m fine, Nami. Just haven’t had much time to sleep.” Again, he lied to her. They had been acquainted for four months in these fleshy forms and yet still he thought he could lie?

“Come on, Souji-kun. That’s a lie and you know it.” Izanami stepped forward and held his face with one hand. He didn’t flinch, she was pleased to notice. “Have you been worrying about something?” Visibly worries flickered over his face, the first of which she noticed was along the lines of “how did she know?” followed immediately by “I can’t burden her with this,” and “time to think of a convincing lie.” Izanami cut him to the punch.

“Don’t lie to me.” She leaned in further, face less than a foot from his now. “Are you okay? This isn’t like you, Souji-kun.” The child of hope would do best not to fall to despair. That would interfere with her results. Souji stood there, stock-still and silent, refusing to look her in the eye. Izanami sighed. Drastic measures would have to be taken. “Look. Nobody’s going to come in here again, same as usual. I’ll cover your shift, say you were here, the whole lot. So, why don’t you just go home and-” 

“No!” Souji snapped -- or, shouted would be more appropriate. “I-I can do this. I can’t dump everything on you. It’s not fair of me.” She thought she could faintly hear him whisper “I’ve got this, I’ve got this…” She watched as he flattened his panic and slapped on a winning smile that didn’t quite mask the pain in his eyes. Souji’s facade only flickered for a moment when Izanami did not waver in staring at him, arms folded across her chest. She waited for Souji to back down, to try and explain himself, but she already knew he wouldn’t. It wasn’t like Souji to do anything for himself if he could help anyone else.

“Souji-kun.” Izanami said, slowly and carefully like a woman speaking to a spooked animal “I am going to close up the shop early. Then I am going to walk you back to your uncle’s house and make sure you get some proper sleep.” Souji looked like he was about to protest but Izanami cut him off with a dismissive wave. “No, I don’t even want to hear it. You look like a wreck, Souji-kun. You have bags under your eyes and you’ve been on the verge of a nervous breakdown for the last week.” Souji tried to say something but she shoved a finger across his lips. “Sshh. Souji-kun, let me take care of this.” And of you, she longed to say. But she pressed that down, deep inside. His shoulders slumped.

“Okay, fine.” Souji whispered. Izanami nodded and quietly went through the motions of closing early. Cash register locked, lights turned off, soda machine compressor slowed down, a dozen tasks to take her mind off what she was currently doing. What WAS she doing? Izanami tried to avoid thinking about how she was sabotaging her own work, something that Ameno-Sagiri was not willing to let go so easily. _He stands against man’s desires,_ it rumbled. _It is foolish to assist him. Let him wander the fog and lose the truth. We do not need him, for there is another champion still._ A competition with only one side is no competition at all, Izanami returned. Ameno-Sagiri remained silent. 

Izanami pushed her thoughts to the side and clapped her hands to draw Souji’s attention. His gaze flitted from staring out into the dark fog to at her again. She half-coughed before she spoke. “Alright, let’s go.” Souji nodded, and out the door they went and into the cold and fog. “So, where do you live?”

“This way.” Souji nodded and trudged off towards the east end of town. Izanami followed, making sure not to get ahead of him as if she didn’t already know where he lived. Patience, patience, she thought. The night was silent, dark and deep, and the two of them walked quietly back to the Dojima residence. No talk passed between them. Souji was tired, or at least he looked that way to her and Izanami was too busy thinking of the proper thing to do without showing her hand too much. Eventually as they reached the darkened house she set upon doing exactly what she said she would do. Izanami, the creation goddess of Japan and mother of thousands would take him to his home and make sure he got some sleep. She glanced at him as he fumbled for his keys. Maybe a meal, too. He looked awfully thin in the fluorescent light. The door opened with a soft click and the goddess and student rushed inside out of the cold. 

“Pardon the intrusion!” 

“Don’t bother.” Souji muttered as she kicked off her work shoes. “Nobody’s home to hear you.” Izanami turned to face her coworker.

“Huh?” She already knew what Souji was about to say, but Nami Shirasagi didn’t. Patience, patience. 

“My uncle and cousin are both…” He turned away from her again. Briefly she wished he would stop doing that. “They’re both in the hospital right now. They won’t be home for a long time.” Izanami could barely hear him mutter “possibly ever” under his breath. Well. That was interesting. She hadn’t heard that the elder Dojima was in the hospital as well. She'd simply assumed that, as usual, he was working late. That necessitated a change of plans. 

“And you didn’t tell me this? How long have you been here alone?” Just a tinge of worry entered her voice, some of it genuine. That wouldn’t do at all. The door clicked quietly shut.

“It doesn’t matter.” the Look she gave him could have withered a forest. “It’s -- it’s been about a month.” A twinge in her gut. A month? Humans were fragile enough as is. He’d spent a month living on his own, with his schedule? Izanami had seen thousands fall apart from the pressure of life alone. This was not going according to plan at all. Further adjustments to the plan would have to be made. 

“A month, huh? Well, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.” Souji awkwardly scratched the back of his head, obviously aware that there was a woman standing in his house while nobody else was around. Izanami could almost see the wheels in his head turned as he searched around for a topic. “So, um. Can I get you a drink, or…” The unspoken question ‘will you go home, then?’ hung in the air. She decided to ignore it, pushing past him into the small residence.

“Don’t worry about me. Did you eat dinner today?” The pile of torn apart instant noodle wrappers answered that question for her, but she still wished to hear it from his mouth.

“Yeah. Right before I left. Noodles.” She glanced back at him. His posture indicated to her that he was significantly uncomfortable with her standing in his kitchen and if she knew anything about him and people like him, Souji didn’t want to burden her with his needs. 

“Well, that’s not much of a meal. Sit down, I’ll fix something up.”

“But-”

“It’ll only take a little bit. Go on, have a seat.” She couldn’t see it, turning as she was to pick ingredients out of the refrigerator, but Izanami was sure that Souji was gritting his teeth behind her. Luckily, she could hear him pad over to the couch and flop down upon it. Now. There was some rice in the jar on the countertop and a bit of chicken in the freezer. What could she make with that, some peppers, snow peas, mustard, and onion?

  
  


Why had he agreed to this again? All he was doing was burdening yet another person with his problems, just like all of his friends. It wouldn’t be fair to say that Souji was brooding if only because he was too exhausted to properly brood. He’d felt fine showing up at the gas station but now somehow Souji felt worn down. When was the last time he’d just sat there like this? He couldn’t remember. The beeping of the rice cooker turning on roused Souji from his introspection and he turned to see his coworker (and foolish crush, his heart reminded him with a few quick thumps) fuddling about in his uncle’s kitchen. Her cap was off, resting on the table and her grey hair cascaded down her neck. Souji pulled his gaze away, mentally berating himself for starting. 

Even with Trumpeter he’d been unable to find the correct words. What was it about her that made it so difficult to talk? Sometimes, Souji could swear she could see right through him, that she was better at the game of people than he was and he wondered if that was how others felt around him all the time. 

“So, you been here alone for a month?” His head jerked up. Right. Question time. Deflection time. No need to worry about Seta Souji. He could hear the warhorn of the Trumpeter stirring him to action.

“Well, not entirely alone. I’ve had a friend over about once a week for dinner.” He left out the part where they had invited themselves over and kept him from fulfilling other obligations, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. The air in the room dropped five degrees and Nami chose her words carefully before speaking.

“And you say you work… three jobs?” He could hear the concern in her voice. Damn. Deflect, deflect.

“Well. Yes, but they’re all part-time. The gas station’s my longest shift at six hours, three nights a week.” And on holidays, but there hadn’t been any recently that they’d needed him. The temperature in the room dropped another five degrees, and Nami Shirasagi straightened her back while she prepared the chicken and carrots. He’d said the wrong thing again. Souji would have cursed himself out if he could get away with it. Instead, he had to resort to berating himself in the privacy of his own head.

“Three jobs is still a lot of work, Sou-kun. And you have school, too. How are you fitting it all in?” Souji fired off his response without thinking, the same response he’d given to everyone (Eri, Hisano and Kanji mostly) who had bothered to ask.

“Oh, you know. Proper time management goes a long way with scheduling yourself.” 

“I… see.” Silence, broken only by the sizzling sound of chicken on an oiled fry-pan. “Souji.” He could feel the tension build in the room as Nami thought through her next question. 

“How long have you been working and helping every waking moment, and how many nights have you gone without a good rest?” Souji could feel the icy hand close around his heart. How on earth had she seen through him? Nami turned to face him, red eyes piercing into his heart. She waited, still and unmoving, gazing over her shoulder at him.

“I-I...” Souji trailed off, cleared his throat and started again. “I’ve been… applying myself for about a month now. I’ve kept busy before, but…”

“It’s easier to just drown it out, huh?” Nami turned back to the cooking chicken, stirring it around. He could smell it from here, fried chicken and oil filling the room with their scent. (at least one woman in his life wasn’t terrible with food, he thought, then immediately regretted it) “You can’t-” She cut herself off. More silence. “Souji.” He stared at her, exhausted and apprehensive, but she spoke before it could come to a head. “You don’t need to put the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

“They need me.”

“Who?”

“Everyone.” She snorted, and it was so unlike anything else she had ever done in his presence that Souji felt like laughing. 

“If that’s true, then they need you to not fall apart. Don’t set yourself on fire to keep others warm, Souji. All that lies down that way is pain.” Very, very faintly, so faint that Souji had to strain to hear it over the sizzle of the chicken he could hear Nami whisper “I don’t want you to suffer through that too.”

Yet he could not. Nami, for all of her strange nuggets of wisdom and reliability and common sense could simply not understand the stakes he was up against. There was a murderer, who even caught as he was he could still get off free, who had claimed the lives of two women and even now nearly claimed his little cousin, every moment of her life inching her closer and closer to a death that the doctors could not understand. Damn it! His hands clenched so tight at his knees that his nails nearly gouged through the pants. He did not hear Nami approach with a bowl of chicken, carrots, peas and rice for him, and neither did he hear her quietly put it on the broken kotatsu. Souji’s hands gripped his face nearly involuntarily.

And it was all his fault, too! If he’d just stopped rescuing people, then Nanako never would have been thrown in! Or, even so, if he could have just made Dojima understand then Nanako never would have been left alone to be taken in the first place! If he’d just -- been more careful, if he’d been bolder, more persuasive, if he hadn’t fucked up so badly then his little cousin would still be fine, and they’d be sitting at a new kotatsu right now and-

A hand gently laid itself on his shoulder.

“It will be okay, Souji-kun.” Nami whispered to him. Souji wanted to share her faith, desperately wanted that to be true. But he knew deep down, and less deep now, that Nanako was not going to get better and it was all his fault. How did all these people depend on him, Seta Souji the fuckup? Yosuke thought he was some sort of genius investigator when he’d been stumbling around in the dark for months, Chie and Teddie both looked up to him for his wild flailing that they called martial prowess, Yukiko and Kanji both had been desperate for him to validate them, Rise was inexplicably attracted to him or at least pretended to be despite his complete lack of redeeming features, and Naoto for some god-forsaken reason thought that he was her intellectual equal when he could barely understand what she was talking about half the time.

A sob escaped Souji’s mouth when his fingers dug deeper into his face. God, he was so pathetic. He was crying like a little girl in front of Nami. She must be repulsed by him, offended by his hideous weakness. He was an awful role model, why had he tried to help Shu and Ayane? More importantly, why had they LET him? Tears rolled down his hands and dripped to his knees as Souji strained to hold back another sob. All this power and he couldn’t even save one little girl when it came down to it.

Please leave.” Souji managed to choke out between labored breaths. “I-” He coughed to suppress another sob. “I can’t -- please, don’t look at me.” The couch sank a bit beneath Souji as Nami sat down right next to him and he could feel the dam straining. Souji held back the tide for a few moments more before it crashed upon him like a wave and something broke inside of him. Tears flooded down his face and he just couldn’t stop weeping. God, Nanako, he was so sorry. Why couldn’t he have been better? Worthless. Everyone would have been better off if he’d never come to Inaba in the first place. He nearly choked on his own tears when Nami dragged him sideways into a crushing hug. Yet it just wouldn’t stop, an entire year of suppressed tension and anxiety pouring out, burdening his co-worker with his secret weakness. 

It was a bit of an awkward hug, admittedly. Souji noted distantly that his face was crushed into Nami’s chest yet his legs were still anchored in front of him though she was doing her best to pull him up onto the couch entirely or at least towards her to hug him better. And already his grotesque sobbing was starting to ruin her uniform. It wasn’t pretty crying like on the dramas (not that he had expected it to be, or to cry at all until everything was over), not at all. His tears were going everywhere and his sniffling had graduated to snorting awkwardly and this wasn’t going at all like he had hoped tonight would go.

“It’s going to be all right, Souji.” Nami whispered just loud enough to be heard over his wracking sobs. “This too will pass.” Guilt twinged in his gut.

“It’s my fault-If I was good enough I could have-” he wept into her chest.

“What’s done is done.” Nami paused, and if he had been paying attention Souji would have sworn she had a nostalgic look while she gathered the right words. “Don’t think on the here and now. Don’t dwell in the past, don’t struggle with the ‘would haves’, ‘could haves’, and ‘should haves’ of life. Look to the future.” With one hand, the gas station worker twisted Souji’s face up to look her in the eyes. He could barely see her through the tears, but he would swear that she was smiling. “Shape the future. I don’t know what, exactly, you think is your fault but it can be fixed.”

“But I don’t know how, Nami-san. How can I fix it?” She hugged him even tighter, head pushed back down and away from her gaze. She hummed, a contemplative sound that made his heart tighten just a bit more.

“I don’t know. But if you need me for anything, Souji, I’ll be there for you. If you need a ride or a meal or some help with your work I’m always here for you. Even if you just need a shoulder to cry on…” Nami trailed off. The tears were in full flow now, soaking through the Moel jacket he clung to like a drowning man to driftwood. Souji’s entire universe had contracted to this one moment in time and space and yet still he was fraught with despair. Doubts had crept into his thoughts while she had spoken. Would she really ‘be there for him’? People were only there when they needed him. And she simply could not understand why it was his fault -- which it certainly was. He had faltered with Namatame. If he hadn’t, perhaps Nanako would still be well. 

“Hey.” She cut off his thoughts once more and he started, sniffling heavily. “Stop that. Don’t blame yourself.” Had he mumbled that out loud? God, he was pathetic. “It’ll get better. The fog will lift someday. Until then, you have your friends-”

“I couldn’t-” Souji let out a hacking series of coughs. “I can’t make them carry my weight too, when they have their own burdens.”

“You are _not_ a _burden_ , Souji-kun. They’re your _friends_. They would be happy to help you if you just ask for it. You don’t need to walk a path alone to walk it at all.” She chuckled. “And you have me too, I suppose. I’ll help you with whatever you need.” But you couldn’t help me in the way I most needed help, a traitorous part of Souji whispered. Nami paused as if sensing his incredulity. “I’m serious. Why do you think I’m here? I care. And I bet a lot of your friends do too. A burden becomes lighter when two people carry it, if you want to call it that.” Her voice, low and musical, brought down the wracking coughs and free tears slowly but steadily as Nami cradled him in her arms. And soon enough he wrapped his arms around her chest and hugged her back.

The two of them sat there for twenty minutes when Souji finally regained enough control of himself to sit up and pull away from Nami. Her coat was stained, Souji noted. Tears and sweat and a little snot spattered across the front of the Moel coat, but she didn’t seem to mind. For his part, his face was still red and his hair disheveled, but he had schooled his face into smoothness and had at least gotten his breathing under control. Nami glanced at him, red eyes meeting blue and somehow, Souji felt an invisible line was before him. A twitch of her lips upwards towards a smile. Surely he’d disgusted her. Nobody who was so weak and free with their sorrows could-

  
It took Souji Seta a moment to realize that he was being kissed. Nami had leaned in and gently met their lips. It wasn’t perfect, her nose nearly poking him in the eye and she smelled vaguely of gasoline and lilies, but for a brief moment the entire world was there, just on the couch with Nami. She pulled back and god, that wan smile she put on with grey hair just covering one of her eyes hit him right in the heart, which thumped furiously in response. He could feel the blush spreading over his face and he wondered how she could keep so calm all the time.

“Are you feeling better?” She teased.

“I-much.” He schooled himself into smoothness again, and smiled, carefully. “Thanks, Nami. I appreciate it.” Souji hesitated for one moment. “Can… Can you please not tell anyone? I couldn’t bear to-” 

“Don’t worry about it.” Nami stood up, dusted herself off and turned to face him. “Though, I may have to walk you home again another day. Your dinner situation is somewhat pathetic.” A glint in her eye only just stopped him from apologizing. A joke. Of course. “Well, I’ll see myself out, then. See you at work tomorrow, Souji. Get some sleep.” 

  
  


Izanami turned around as Souji nodded and made an affirmative grunt at her back. Cap collected, she prepared to walk out again into the night and leave her plotting behind for just a bit. She needed to wait now, wait and see the effects. Though perhaps a bit more influence wouldn’t be too bad. A twinge of guilt in her gut. Even if it was necessary and proper for this trial to be delivered onto humanity, it still burned her inside to see her champion burdened so. He was barely a man and yet so much weighed upon him. Ameno-sagiri rumbled in her thoughts, _It is the will of humanity. He will understand when it is over and he will be whole again. Pure and perfect in every way._ But he is not right now, she thought. He will not understand. He is not Izanagi. Izanami’s thoughts were cut off by a voice rarely heard as Kusumi-no-Okami hummed in her soul. _No, he is not. But we will make him see it. We will make him hear it. He is not Izanagi, yet one day he will be._

The goddess walked down the lonesome road, fog moving to enshroud her in a coat of silence. One day soon she would not walk this path alone. He is not ready.

He will be.

**Author's Note:**

> For BadBadBathhouse. I feel Izanami and Souji are a critically underappreciated dynamic, even if it doesn't come off very well here due to Izanami hiding under the role of the gas station attendant. I also like Souji breaking out from the 'perfect example of self control'. Originally, this work was intended to be Marie instead of our favorite death/creation goddess, but I've put that story off until another time.


End file.
